Gentleman's Day, Pirate's Night
by Elemental Fantasy 13
Summary: Amelia absolutely loves Halloween. The only problem is her boyfriend, Arthur, who has a history of locking himself in his house every year. She makes it her mission to get him out, one way or the other, and enjoy Halloween. But she forgets Arthur isn't the only one inhabiting his body. Arthur hates Halloween, only because his other personality loves it. USUK. Halloween Special.


**A Halloween special, in honor of the holiday. Also an experiment with a multiple personality AU. Let me know how it goes!**

 **Enjoy!**

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Amelia hummed happily to herself, backing down the driveway to admire her work. She had to admit, it was the best she'd ever done. Of course she'd never had a Victorian style house to work with before, which was perfect for someone trying to create the perfect haunted house. Outside only, of course. Amelia knew this would be pushing it, so she decided to go with her idea of 'light'. This meant simply decorating the house and yard, not prepping an entire haunted house. Besides, this neighborhood didn't have a contest like hers did.

Ghosts and ghouls in the trees, gravestones and bones scattered across the yard, a grim reaper hanging on the porch, jack-o'-lantern lights on the rails, window clings in every single pane, cobwebs galore, even a giant spider daintily placed atop rose bushes. It was Amelia's masterpiece. Now all she had to do was convince Arthur not to freak out when he saw what she'd done to his house.

She was still admiring her handiwork when the front door was thrown wide open, Arthur stumbling off the porch and down the sidewalk. He turned in a slow circle, a look of growing horror on his face. Amelia's pride in her project dropped a little, but she still gave Arthur a wide smile.

"Watch 'cha think, Artie?"

"What do I think? Why did you do all this? What...

"It's Halloween, Iggy. It'll be fun, I promise."

Arthur was slowly shaking his head. Amelia, deciding it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission, had gotten up at sunrise on a Saturday to get all this done before he woke up. He was still wearing plaid flannel pants and a ratty The Who t-shirt, apparently having noticed her not long after waking up. He was adorably flustered, she thought, hair even messier than usual.

"You don't understand," he said shakily, backing towards the house. "Amelia, I can't...you don't know what you've done. It's hard enough to hold him in check as it is."

Amelia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't think he would react to this time of year?" demanded Arthur, marching briskly back into the house.

Trailing after him, Amelia asked, "You mean the Captain? I thought you said he's easier to control during holidays." After a moment she added, "Except for Valentine's Day."

"Remind me how you enjoyed that?" quipped Arthur, shoving the door open.

Amelia bounded in after him, still grinning. She knew he wasn't _completely_ angry with her when he held the door for her. It was one of the qualities that made Arthur himself, not the Captain, a virtually compulsive gentlemen streak.

"It was the first day you guys seemed to be in sync. Besides, I essentially got to get presents from _two_ guys, and go on _two_ dates. And since you are you, there was no guilt and it actually works."

Arthur made a face as he slammed the door. "Forgot how bloody mad you are. And that's coming from _me."_

"Come on, Iggy, you're not insane. You're awesome, you both are. I love you both and I want to both to enjoy the holiday."

Dropping down slowly onto the bottom step of the stairs, Arthur ran both hands through his air. "You do realize what you're doing, don't you? This is the one time of year he can't be reasoned with, love. If anything happens I won't be able to stop him. The last time he got control during Halloween I woke up in a bloody holding cell."

"When was that? Seven years ago?" she asked, calculating how long the dual personality had been stable. It had been an issue ever since Arthur's family had first come over from England when he was six, but it wasn't until he was a teenager the Captain came out regularly. Before that, it had only been when Arthur had been threatened or truly angry. It took several more years and half a dozen therapists before they found one that worked. It wasn't until he was eighteen that he and the Captain had agreed to try and maintain a balance of sorts.

"Ten. Why do you think I hide every year? Before that he was even worse than normal."

Amelia plopped down next to him on the step, frowning. "What does he do exactly? I mean, he goes pretty crazy if he runs into a few people who shall not be named, but other than that he's pretty good about not getting into a lot of trouble."

That part, at least, she was sure about. The Captain, an alternate personality that had adamantly refused to be erased or melded with by Arthur's original personality, was a British pirate. A rum-chugging, sea-loving, treasure seeking pirate. When he was out, he usually busied himself looking for treasure maps and treasure itself. At least that was what Amelia had heard. These days he spent as much time around her as he did treasure hunting. Before the two had reached a mutual agreement, the Captain had spent far more time trying to get drunk and beating up anyone who looked at him the wrong way.

Arthur sighed wearily. "He is. You'll remember we had to explain he couldn't treasure hunt in prison? He takes everything much too seriously. Anyone dressed as a pirate is a rival. Every policemen is trying to arrest him, even if the kid is five years old. Last time he got out he tried to challenge some bloke off the street to a duel to the death when all the man had was a plastic sword. On top of that he was completely drunk. Actually nicked an entire crate of rum from a corner shop."

Amelia turned this over, thoughtful. "How aware is he right now?"

"I build up walls all month for this. He's not happy but he doesn't start fighting it until sundown. Why?"

"Let me talk to him."

Arthur stared at her. "Are you daft? Do you have any idea how hard it is to control him when he's on the surface?"

"Trust me, Artie. How long have we been dating?"

"Ten months."

"Right. If I can't handle both of you by now, I shouldn't still be here. Let me talk to the Captain. If it doesn't work, I'll tie him to the bed or something."

Arthur made a face. "He'd probably enjoy that a bit too much."

"Which means he'd be happy to let me do it."

"You do realize he'll change his mind the moment he knows you still have no intentions of shagging him, right?"

"He should be used to that by now," said Amelia, flapping a hand. "I can handle him."

Arthur didn't look best pleased with this, but he closed his eyes. As Amelia watched, he seemed to change where he sat, shoulders growing broader, his posture relaxing. A hand drifted up to his left eye, which remained closed as his right eye opened lazily. She hadn't quite figured it out, how Arthur somehow changed his very presence when the Captain took over. Even his eye seemed brighter, more acidic than when Arthur was in control.

"Have ye got it, lass? Ye did call me out, tell me you've got it."

Amelia was already rummaging through the pouch she kept at her waist. It wasn't a fanny pack, she'd gone out of her way to make sure of that. More like a belt with a pouch attached, one she never went without these days. While it was one of her favorite accessories, right up there with her bomber jacket, the buckskin pouch beaded in a Native American design was also very useful these days. In addition to her wallet and phone, it was the perfect size to hold a spare eye patch and a packet of tea. Earl Gray, black. Arthur's favorite, and one of the few things besides rum the Captain was willing to drink.

"Thank ye, beauty," said the Captain, taking the offered eye patch. As he put it on he asked, "What'd ye say to old Artie to make him agree to a switch? 'Tis All Hollow's Eve, is it not?"

"Yeah, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. See, I love Halloween, and as my boyfriends I want you to enjoy it too. Only it sounds like you enjoy it _too_ much."

"Aye, and what's wrong with that, lass?" he asked, lounging back on the steps, sprawling his legs out. Giving her a cocky, crooked grin he added, "Ye like it yourself, me beauty. How can ye complain?"

"I don't go around making trouble," she informed him. "If you're willing to have fun that doesn't land you two in a holding cell again, I think you'd enjoy it."

The Captain chuckled. "I've been having plenty of fun. What could be better than a night with so many to fight, so much treasure just out there for the taking-

"Captain, that's fake treasure, alright? Plastic. Not real. No one is stupid enough to do that." Turning to prop one elbow on a step, she smiled at him and said, "You need to realize these are just kids playing pretend. Even the adults. All Hollow's Eve is the one night of year we American's can be anything we want. It's...pretend, it's practice. Say a kid's dressed as a policemen. He's not an actual policemen, he's playing pretend because he thinks he might want to be one when he grows up. Why do you think you see so many people dressed as superheroes or villains? It's just practice."

The Captain was frowning, the gears turning. He might share Arthur's body, but they didn't share a brain, figuratively speaking. Arthur would have scoffed at this argument, but the Captain was an 16th century pirate who'd barely paid attention to school long enough to learn how to read and write. It didn't hurt that Amelia's day job was being a lawyer that almost never lost a case, and she'd spent the last ten months mastering the art of having two boyfriends in one body.

"Does that mean I canna' duel 'em?" he asked at last, looking very disappointed.

"Not exactly. See, there's a balance to these things, Captain. Most people just patronize or ignore the costumes, especially with the younger kids. They want to be taken seriously as what they're dressed up as. Until now you've taken things _too_ seriously, which has been a problem. The key is balance, which is what we're going to work on tonight. You are going to stay here with me and pass out candy from the best haunted house in the neighborhood."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. "That donna sound like fun."

"Really? You'd get to train pirates, threaten superheroes, and shake hands with some of the most notorious villains. Challenge policemen and say thing like 'you'll never take me alive!'. Let geniis practice granting a wish, kiss the hands of princess's."

Large brows furrowed. The Captain seemed to be considering this, and she could see from the light in his eye it pleased him. At last he asked, "And ye say they'll all just be comin' up to our door?"

"Yep. They come for the candy."

"I can't actually challenge them because they're pretending, but since they're practicing I have to take them seriously. Is that it, lass?"

"Pretty much. So, what do you say?"

The Captain gave a roughish grin. "It might be fun to show a few brats how it's done."

 **BREAK/BREAK\BREAK**

Amelia peeked out the window as the sun finally sank to a sliver in the horizon. The porch light was on, and the jack-o'-lantern lights were plugged in. She'd spritzed glow-in-the-dark paint over the spider webs, set up lights to shine softly on the tombstones and skeletons just enough to make them visible and to create creepy shadows. There were seven, count 'em, _seven_ carved pumpkins on the porch. Three on the rails on either side of the steps, one set right next to the door. Each one had a different face carved into it, and each had an electric candle flickering inside. There would have been eight, but the one time she'd let the Captain try his hand at pumpkin carving, he'd gone at it with his sword. She'd had to banish him from the kitchen until she was done after that.

"Ye said they'd start comin' at sundown?" he asked now.

She pulled away from the curtains, propping her hands on her hips. This year she'd decided to go with sexy pirate, to compliment the Captain. He certainly wasn't complaining, especially since she got out the bolted trunk holding his favorite clothes. He looked quite the pirate, in a good way. Currently he was leaning against the wall next to the window, arms folded, hat tipped low over his face.

"Aye," she said, grinning.

A smile curled at his mouth, and the Captain gave a rumbling chuckle. "If ye had told ye planned to dress like that, I'd have behaved ages ago."

Amelia winked at him, and went to get the candy from the kitchen. She was halfway back with a large bowl piled high when the Captain barked, "They're comin', lass!"

Beaming, she hurried back, setting down the bowl on the small table by the door before peeking out. Sure enough, a Spiderman and a Flash were scurrying up the sidewalk, empty buckets in hand. She could make out their parents waiting on the main sidewalk. Okay, this looked like a safe test run. One looked about seven, the other five or six. Their being boys helped. Boys loved pirates, right?

"Okay, ready? Don't eat that!" She slapped the Captain's hand away from the bowl of candy.

"It's not gold, doesn't mean we should just give it all away," he grumbled.

"Oh hush," she scolded. "There's always some left. You can eat that."

The doorbell rang before he could argue anymore. Amelia shooed him over to the door, picking up the bowl. "Just like I showed you," she whispered.

The Captain grinned, then schooled his features into a stern scowl. He strode over to the door, making sure his boots clumped audibly on the wood normally covered by a rug. Undoing the latch, he slowly opened the door, one hand on his sword hilt.

"Who dares to come here?" he asked, voice schooled into his best pirate's growl.

Both boys looked up at him, the younger Spiderman gaping in wonder. His older brother, the Flash, was the one who said, "Whoa! We didn't know a real pirate lived here!"

The Captain gave his best devilish smirk. "Aye, lad. What business do ye have here? Speak it now, or be off with ye."

Both quickly held out their buckets and recited in unison, "Trick or treat!"

That was when Amelia stepped forward, depositing two pieces into each bucket. When they started staring at her, she smiled and said, "You heard the man, be off! And don't ye dare return 'till next year!"

Grinning wildly, they turned and ran down the sidewalk. The Captain closed the door, then asked, "Would ye say that went well?"

Amelia set the bowl back down, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I think so. Did you see their faces? Those were the 'OMG this is awesome!' faces."

The Captain smirked, hooking an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Ye make a fine pirate wench, me beauty."

"Should I slap you for that?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a kiss."

Amelia thought about it, but before she could decide someone rang their doorbell again. She gave him a peck on the cheek and pried herself loose. "Go work your magic, Captain."

And so it began. Amelia was very friendly and social by nature, which had made it easier to ask around. She'd discovered that while there were a lot of Trick-or-Treaters in the neighborhood, they had always steered clear of Arthur's house. Now, though, word had gotten out about Amelia's makeover.

They were getting Trick-or-Treaters as fast as they could answer the door. Amelia kept a sharp eye on the Captain at all times...for the first six rings of the doorbell. After that she didn't bother. He was really getting into it, it seemed.

The Captain challenged hero's, interrogated villains to see who'd done the worst deeds, demanded a practice sword fight with every pirate, and went down on one knee to kiss the hand of every princess, even when they saw costumes more than once. The one time a five year old policeman _did_ show up, he slammed the door and started shouting, "all hands on deck! Arm the cannons! You, wench, get that blasted lawman off our doorstep or I'll blow him away!" Amelia had opened the door just enough to drop candy in his half full jack-o'-lantern bucket and whisper, "Sorry, but you'd better go. He's been wanting to use that cannon for ages." The look of wide eyed wonder was in place yet again, and his mother was smiling above him. Amelia gave them both a wink before ducking back inside.

All in all, Amelia counted it as a successful night. The Captain didn't act inappropriate one time, didn't grumble about anything besides those that came back for seconds, and not once did he make for the rum. He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

By the time Amelia turned off the porch light, her only complaint was that they'd run out of candy. As she turned the locks on the door, the Captain asked, "Is that it, lass?"

"Yeah, it's eleven o'clock. We're down to teenagers at this point. Besides, we're out of candy. You close up shop when you're out of candy, it's the rule."

"Can't we get some more?"

Amelia shook her head. "I'm not making a Wal-Mart run at midnight for more Halloween candy. We've been at it for almost four hours as it is. If you want more fun, you're gonna have to wait till next year."

She had to admit, it was a rare sight to see the Captain pouting. Smiling, she came around him, leaning up to kiss him. "Oh stop it. Did you really sulk like this before?"

"Nay. I was either drunk or hung over."

"And this was better, right?"

"Aye," he admitted.

"Good. Now suck it up and go get changed."

"Very well. But would ye mind fetchn' something from the parlor for me, lass?"

Amelia frowned. "Fetch what?"

"Ye will see."

Giving him an odd look, Amelia went into the area opposite the living room. It was dark, as was most of the house to add effect. She reached for the light switch, but froze when she heard a low moan. Immediately she froze. "C-Captain?"

There was another, louder moan. It was followed by a low wail. Amelia looked back, but the Captain had vanished. Curse it, no one had told him, had they? Sure Arthur knew, but only because he was Arthur. Amelia was a heroine, heroine's weren't afraid of anything, especially not ghosts. They made her uneasy, that was all. Arthur had found out by mistake, during a horror flick fest earlier in the month. The Captain, as far as she knew, hadn't been made privy to this information. Right?

Amelia edged forward, but only when she'd convinced herself of this. _I'm the heroine, heroine's aren't afraid of ghosts. I'm the heroine, heroine's aren't afraid of-_

 _"Amelia,"_ droned a faint, moaning voice.

She froze, heart pounding against her ribcage. Very, very slowly, Amelia turned towards the voice. A dark figure now stood between her and the doorway to the main room. A very dark, shapeless, looming figure.

 _"Amelia,"_ it droned again.

Red eyes began to glow, outlining a ghoulish face. It's skeleton, ending in a glowing tail of a spine, appeared under torn fabric. Smoke began swirling around it, the torn fabric rippling as it moaned her name a third time.

The third time it uttered her name, Amelia was snapped out of her shock. She opened her mouth and screamed, long and loud. In a flash she was running, still screaming, scrambling for the nearest door with the lock. Amelia scrambled through the kitchen, back to the hall, and dove into the bathroom. She threw the door shut, turned the lock, and braced her back against the wood. There was a window above the toilet, and she was scrambling to reach it when someone banged on the door.

"Amelia! Amelia, it's me! I'm sorry, please don't be afraid. There was no ghost, I swear. Please come out, love."

Amelia froze, balanced on the toilet seat with the window half open. That wasn't the Captain. That was Arthur. Slowly, hands shaking, she dragged the window back down, shoving the locks back into place. Fighting tears, she climbed down off the toilet, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Artie?" she tried shakily.

"It's me, poppet, I promise. I'm sorry, the Captain played a practical joke. I don't know how he found out."

Amelia looked in the mirror, sniffing. Wiping away the few tears that had very unheroically escaped, she tried to gulp down the rest of the thus far maintained tears. Honestly, she was a grown woman, she shouldn't be bawling over this anymore.

Slowly, trying to maintain her composure, Amelia unlocked the door. She opened it a crack, peeking out. The first thing she saw was the edge of shredded dark gray cloth, and immediately slammed the door shut again.

 _"Arthur!"_ she screamed.

A muffled curse was followed by what sounded like a bit of scrambling in the hall. "Amelia, it's me, really! I told you it was a prank. He wanted to scare you, he just didn't know how afraid you were of ghosts. Look, it's a costume, see? Amelia, please, just look?"

It was another few minutes before Amelia could pull herself together, but she eventually made herself open the door a crack just enough to peek out. The first thing she saw was Arthur, clad in the better part of the Captain's pirate costume, a large piece of cloth and what looked like sticks in one hand. His face was the most distraught she'd seen it in some time, since he realized she'd found out about the Captain on her own.

"A prank?" she asked, sniffing.

Arthur held out the cloth, quickly shifting through it. "Yeah, see? It's just cloth and dowels and lights. I never told him, he must have just meant it to be a prank. He didn't know you were so afraid of ghosts."

Amelia rubbed her nose, blinking hard. Slowly, she pushed the door wider, carefully moving closer to get a better look. The more she saw, the more surprised she was. It looked like the Captain had repurposed a outdoor Halloween decoration, a ghoul meant to hang from a tree with light up eyes and a light up half skeleton. She knew Arthur was good with his hands, embroidering and knitting being his calming activities of choice, but she hadn't known the Captain shared this skill.

"I'm sorry, love," repeated Arthur gently, setting down the costume and pulling her into a hug.

She buried her face in his collar, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. He still smelled like the cologne the Captain liked to put on whenever he got the chance, but the undertone of Earl Gray was definitely there. Amelia had no idea why, but for whatever reason when Arthur was in charge, at least some trace of his favorite tea was there. It wasn't with the Captain.

Slowly, Amelia felt herself relax, the urge to burst out into tears fading. The more she calmed down, though, the more she started to try and piece together what had happened. The Captain had probably retrieved the costume while she'd gone out to turn off the yard decorations. A hand-held switch would turn on the light up parts of the costume. The Brit, no matter who was in charge, had proven to have a very diverse set of vocal chords. He had switched to an American accent, but the ghost voice wouldn't have been that hard for him to manage.

Amelia pulled back to look at Arthur, frowning, though she still kept hold of him. "Wait, if the Captain did that, why are you here?"

Arthur looked grim. "I heard you scream, love. He panicked. He meant to scare you, just not so badly."

"So you took over? Without him letting you?" she asked, surprised.

Frowning, brow creased in thought, Arthur said slowly, "I...suppose. I told you, I heard you scream, I-

He was cut off in a sort of choking noise as Amelia threw her arms around his neck, bouncing delightedly. "You did! You've never done that before, Iggy! I'm proud of you. You finally beat him so you could be my hero."

When she pulled back to look at him, Arthur was blushing from jaw line to hairline. Amelia giggled, and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Arthur, really. And other than that, the Captain did wonderfully all night. He had fun that didn't get him into trouble."

Arthur, who was still blushing, managed to ask, "He didn't make a mess of things? Ghost scare excluded, of course."

"Yep! Would you believe he wanted me to run to Wal-Mart when we ran out of candy?"

This seemed to baffle Arthur, but he also wasn't complaining either. "It could have been worse, I suppose. Are you sure you're alright?"

Amelia heisted. "Um, actually, would you mind if I spent the night on your couch? Just in case?"

Arthur smiled sadly, cupping her cheek. "No, but I do have a guest room you're welcome to. I'm sorry he scared you, poppet. I didn't even know he'd made that bloody costume."

"I'll kick his butt the next time he's out. Besides, this way I can make you breakfast. You really need something besides oatmeal and burned scones and tea every now and then."

"My scones are not burned," argued Arthur, making a face.

Amelia just smiled, relaxing as they fell into a familiar argument. For reasons unknown to her, Arthur was convinced he was a good cook. Everyone else deemed his food inedible. She'd seen his scones. They were black and suitable hockey puck substitutes.

"Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I decorate your house next year too?"

Arthur groaned.

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 **Happy Halloween my pretties! :)**

 **[]**

 **Please Review!**


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